RedOvechkin1917

I went to Big Sur this weekend with Eva. When I was there, my friend Moshe came by and related the following dream which he had: "I stand in the creek with the water up to my knees. I make a bow and arrow motion with my arms -- I hold my left arm out front to hold the bow, pull my right arm back and let it go, releasing the imaginary arrow into the bushes on the other side of the creek. "My depression would be gone in an instant if I could join a military force capable of taking down the IDF," Moshe told me. We both laugh. It's a joke, but only kind of. We both know he's pretty capable physically, but when it comes to most things, the truth is he usually doesn't give a fuck. Who cares about running a 5K when his tax dollars are funding a genocide? He reserves his strength for the things he gives a shit about, but if someone random asks him, he'll just say he has depression and spare them the whole story. ** I try to to explain to my Dad: my depression is ...

I feel like absolute shit today. It’s not really the cold, more just being absolutely desperate to do shit for Palestine and being unable to do so. Some days I’m kind of able to put things aside and be focused on RFP and working out and silly little things in the U.S. – being motivated to have healthy habits, eat well, exercise, do what I can, and other days I really just cannot be bothered. Today is definitely one of those latter days. I think if I had the opportunity to go on one of the Sumud flotillas I would do it. I would certainly think very strongly about it. I don’t know how I would pay rent while doing it, if it would mean being away from work for a while, but I really feel like I would do it.  The days that I find myself just feeling immense grief for Palestine and unable to really function or focus on anything other than that. I think my therapist would say that feelings like those are valid, and that the healthiest way to process them is to make space for them. Which is...

  The Panthers are gone, and Lamar can't deliver the W. What the fuck is going on? If we can't have Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, and Eldridge Cleaver, can we at least have Lamar seal the win? I'm thinking about the capitalist division of intellectual and physical labor, and how sports are one of the only arenas in American life where an individual can use their body and mind at the same time. The division between brain and body just isn't really a thing when you're playing a sport, especially quarterback, and that's awesome. If the Panthers had been more successful, maybe there would be more spaces where these Cartesian divisions would be collapsed.

What business do kids born in the New Jersey suburbs have telling Palestinian organizers how they should respond to a genocide? Campers at a random Jewish summer camp. I have no idea if these students would or would not go on to become leaders in the Jewish pro-Palestine movement.  *notice: upsetting imagery and language ahead* Picture this: Your family members, your friends, your entire fucking neighborhood, has been destroyed by IDF soldiers, IDF snipers, and IDF armored bulldozers. Tens of thousands of your people have been slaughtered, fully city blocks have been razed, and thousands of men, militants or not, are held for torture within Israeli prisons, with no chance for anything remotely resembling a fair trial. Then, some kids from New Jersey show up, wearing kippot , or yarmulkes , telling you that when they were in third grade Hebrew school, their teacher taught them that the primary value in Judaism was tzedek , meaning justice. They ask you to put your petty quarrels asi...

Let me tell you about a friend of mine. I hate him. He's so toxic. ~~~ Yoni Tzahal hates the english language. He really does not like activism. He hates the DSA meetings. Yoni Tzahal misses the Israelis he went to yeshiva with. He wishes he could talk to them on the phone. He feels like they understand him better than these American activists he surrounds himself with. He doesn't understand activists, especially in the U.S. All this time spinning their wheels, never getting anything done. Just whining about how bad things are in the world. When they very clearly have pathologies in their personal psychology. Running around collecting petitions, endlessly whining about all the helpless victims in the third world, never understanding that they are the broken ones. That the people they seek to save are infinitely more resourceful and happy than they will ever be. If they were ever willing to confront their own neuroses and complexes. Yoni Tzahal really really hated being at Yale....

A father helping his son get dressed for hockey (this is a random picture from the internet, not me and my Dad. I'm not sure if we have any images of the two of us together at the rink) I feel like I have a certain memory, and chasing that feeling is something that has me running all over the place.  Really, it's just my various memories of playing youth hockey, and my Dad taking me to the rink and helping me put my gear on and helping me tie my skates. I played ice hockey in elementary school and middle school. When I was in seventh grade I broke my collarbone playing football after school with friends and after that I decided to quit hockey. I'm not sure why exactly. But I have very precious memories from playing hockey in those years. I remember having a very early morning game at the Rockville Ice Rink. My game was on the outdoor rink -- Rink 3 -- and the locker room my team was assigned to was one of the outdoor locker rooms. It was very cold that morning - probably be...